Don't Look Back
by okaytimenation
Summary: Jack and Crutchie are reunited five years after the strike. Jack is with Katherine, Crutchie's health is in worsening condition, and the feelings that sparked in their youth are quickly reignited.


Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd walked through the streets of Manhattan. He'd nearly forgotten what exactly it felt like to take his time to breathe in the city air and admire his surroundings. He couldn't remember the last time he truly felt united with the people he shared a home with. The past five years had seemed to move in fast motion, between meeting Katherine and becoming a civilized, productive member of society. Becoming a man, a real man by society's standards. Getting a job, a wife, a house, a life. It'd all happened so fast, seemingly without his consent or control. And he couldn't say he wasn't happy, because he was, but it was just all so different than what he'd pictured himself growing up to be. A city man at an office, a man who married into a family of old money, a man who didn't need to work another day in his life but did because what fun was life if you just sat around and watched it move past you.  
It was a Friday evening after a long day at the office, he couldn't wait to get home to spend the weekend lounging around in bed letting all cares stay behind in the bustling city. He'd cancelled the car he usually hired to drive him in and out of the city each morning and evening, he didn't really have the words to explain why. He guessed it was because he missed the city, missed the crowds, the stench and the heat and the claustrophobia. Nowadays he was always high above the city looking down or miles away in a home too big to belong to just two people. And it felt good to be back amongst the people he'd once felt a part of and now felt so distant from.  
He knew every corner of this neighborhood, this used to be his land. Him and the newsboys were there more than anyone else in the city - they slept there, worked there, ate what little they could find there. Why should anyone else own the streets when they were the ones who brought it to life?  
But it'd changed a lot in five years. The newsboys he knew and worked with were gone and had moved on with their lives. Twenty-year-olds didn't do well pushing papers. Hell, seventeen-year-olds didn't even do that well. They were getting younger, that's what Jack noticed most as he moved slowly through the old square, no one looked over twelve and even they probably lied and said they were ten. It was still a hard life for them, nothing had really changed and that's what made him feel guilty. Throughout the whole strike, whose life had really benefited? His. Maybe a few others. But he'd helped himself and moved on. The very thought of it made him speed his pace, being in the square for the first time in all these years wasn't nearly as easy as he'd thought it'd be.  
Jack's feet fell hard on the sidewalk. He could catch a cab out to Long Island once he got to the end of the block. Walking in the streets threw him back into reality, now he knew why he didn't like to do it. He tried his hardest to block out the laughter and the cries and the chatter of the children around him; he tried even harder to ignore the silence of the people who passed and ignored them.  
"Spare change, sir?"  
Jack stopped his stride abruptly, not even entirely sure the child by himself at the edge of the square was speaking to him.  
"Uh, I... sure..." Jack kept his eyes down, scared to make eye contact. His hands shook as he dug deep down into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins to dump into the boy's palms.  
"Awfully generous, sir."  
"Yeah, well you know how it is," he raised his head but shifted his eyes down the street. "What goes around comes around."  
"Well, thank you..."  
Jack returned to looking down at the sidewalk, at his feet beside the boy's. One of the boy's feet was turned slightly inward, and his weight was pushed entirely on his other foot and a wooden crutch stood by his side. Jack's heart rate quickened. It couldn't be, it'd been five years ago and... it was a coincidence. Lots of orphans were crippled.  
"Uh, hey... Jack, is that you?"  
Jack's face shot up immediately as he met eyes with the boy. There was no denying any coincidences now, he'd recognize those soft brown eyes anywhere.  
"Jack, no wonder you gave me so much money! Here, take it back... don't need no charity from you," he tried to shove the coins back into Jack's palms.  
Jack stood frozen, trying his best to at least enunciate the boy's... man's... name.  
"Come on, Jack, don't be stupid... don't need to be takin' your money."  
"You're beggin' on the street, Crutchie. You don't not need my money," Jack said, soft and bitterly.  
"You gotta do what you gotta do to survive, Jack. You know how it is."  
Jack sucked up his fear and looked his old friend in the eyes again. It hurt. Crutchie looked just the same, but weathered and beaten. He'd say defeated if he didn't know Crutchie any better. He looked like he could barely stand, even with the crutch. Five years ago he only really used the crutch for extra support. Five years, god, had it really been that long?  
"I feel like we should... I don't know, catch up or something. But I really should be-"  
"You don't gotta explain, Jack, I get it."  
"No, no it's not like that. It's just I got a wife now and..."  
"Ah," Crutchie nodded, smiling and placing a dirt coated hand on Jack's shoulder. "Congratulations, pal."  
Jack smiled a brief thank you before Crutchie moved his hand and struggled to keep his balance. "Where've you been stayin'?"  
"Still been here at the boarding house. I tell 'em I'm still eighteen and they let me stay. Funny 'cause I turned twenty-one a few months ago. They don't let me sell papes anymore though, and it's hard to find work, ya know."  
Jack nodded, scared his worry and concern or even his guilt would show if he spoke.  
"I been alright though. I been eatin' and gettin' by."  
"It ain't right though, you deserve better than this."  
"Nah, I'm fine, Jack. Honest."  
Jack grabbed Crutchie's shoulders with his hands, and pulled him in closer. Crutchie wobbled slightly but Jack had him in a tight grip.  
"You should come with. Live with Katherine and me for a few days. We'll help you get on your feet. We'll get you food and a bed and a doctor and..."  
Crutchie didn't look interested.  
"C'mon, Crutch. It ain't charity, it's friendship."  
"I don't want to inconvenience you. And besides, if I leave the boarding house they'll fill my spot. They won't let me back. I've got a good gig goin' on here, better'n sleepin' on the streets."  
"How long can you play eighteen, Crutchie? You're a grown man. And you'll die out here."  
Crutchie knew in his heart that Jack was right, and he hated it. Jack was always right and Crutchie usually had no problem agreeing with him so long as he wasn't directly involved. But this... this felt wrong. Moving in with Jack and Katherine? Intruding on their perfect happy life?  
"Please Crutchie. I can't sleep at night knowing you're still living like this."  
"You've always gotta be the savior, don't you Jack?" Crutchie shifted, taking a slow few steps down the street. Jack headed quickly after him, assuming this was his way of saying yes.  
"It's been five years since I've been down here... what kind of a savior waits that long to even think about helping?"  
"A bad one," said Crutchie turning his head to Jack, a smile spread clear across his face.


End file.
